Starting over at 45 …

My story is not interesting, or exciting. Nothing overly outrageous or sensational happens in my story. My story is boring, irritating, infuriating, tragic, and most of all, my story is common. My story is one of wasted time, wasted potential, wasted talent, wasted days and weeks and years. My story isn’t necessarily sad or bad, nothing really awful happens in my story. In fact nothing really happens at all.

From the very beginning I spent my time wishing and dreaming that I was someone else, someplace else. These thoughts were actively(mistakenly) encouraged in me by my father. We used to play that game where you imagine that you just won the lottery, some huge astronomical amount … what would you do? Now I had what I believe was a normal imagination for a child. Unfortunately these little exercises honed that imagination just a little too sharply. Why bother with the tedious if I could escape to this wonderful place in the future where everything was going to be just how I wanted it. I built enormous fantasies about how my life would be. Oh, I forgot to mention, the real key to the game was that there was no ‘if’ we win the lottery, but ‘when’ we win the lottery. Yeah, dad was real definite about that. I spent so much of my childhood dreaming about what I didn’t have that I never really enjoyed what I had.

Fast forward 35 years … I’m never really happy with what I have. I don’t even realize what I’ve got until it’s gone, and then it’s too late to get it back. This has never been more clear to me than right now. I destroyed a seven year relationship with a wonderful woman because I couldn’t see that happiness was right there in my grasp! I simply couldn’t see it … what a fucking tragedy. But that’s done now, over really, nothing but water under the bridge. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her face, heard her voice, smelled her scent. She met someone new, fresh, shiny … moved to the east coast I’m told, Baltimore I hear. Well good for her, I only wish I was able to bounce back like that. I always said she was stronger than she looked, tough as nails really. So you see, it’s all in the past, it’s over, done. I mean I don’t even think about it anymore. lie lie lie Lie LIE LIE LIELIELIELIE!!!!!!!!!! I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY FUCKING DAY!!!! Sorry, sorry, still a bit of a sore spot.

None of that has anything to do with why I’m here doing this now. I feel like if I don’t take some kind of action to change my life … I’m gonna fucking die. So here I am, with urge to write, to express, but without a single idea of what to write about. So I’m just streaming whats playing in my head.

Oh yeah, My Story … I don’t have a story, not one that I’m ready to tell anyway. Hell I’ve been telling other peoples stories for so long, I don't know if I could differentiate. So far my story has been about waiting for shit to happen and then reacting to it (usually badly). It’s not a good idea to just react to stuff, cause nothing ever really gets done, nothing gets settled, and before you know it there’s nothing left to react to anymore anyway. You wake up one day, old, tired, isolated, with nothing to show for the 45 years you’ve had to work with.

My Story, yeah I don’t have one yet. I mean yeah, I have lots of “stories”, some are funny, some are sad, but none of them relate to each other. None of them are any more than anectdotal at best. And the good ones, the ones worth repeating, they’re not even mine, some are completely fabricated!

I’m gonna go now, out into the world and try to make some genuine stories of my own. I need to try and figure out who I am, what I want and where I want to go. All questions that most people tackle and answer in their twenties. Better late than never … right?

Update 7–27–2016

So I started this about six months ago, and then promptly forgot all about it. Well I stumbled across it today and decided to take it out of draft and publish it. Not because I think it’s all that good or anything. It’s sole purpose is to remind me of what I should be doing. I should be living in the present, fully aware and appreciative of what is happening right now. The past and the future are out of my hands and can not be changed or foreseen. I can only affect now. But I won’t forget either. Forgetting equals repeating, and I can’t keep repeating.

All that being said … I didn’t do shit the last six months except work and sit at home feeling hurt and abandoned and lonely. My goal for the next six months? 1. Go on a date with a woman I haven’t met before today. 2. Do at least one more thing worthy of being written about here. That’s all. Wish me luck! Oh, and if you think you can help with number 1, please don’t hesitate to contact me!